Page 27 of Healed By Doc
“Cara,” he groans when I roll my hips over his erection, his hands flying to my waist even as his hips lift to meet mine. “Christ, the things you do to me.”
“I could do more,” I say, and he groans in protest when I inch back before leaning down to kiss his bare chest. Excitement flutters in my stomach as I trail my tongue over his firm muscles, licking a path down his body until I’m staring down at the hard V-line that disappears into his sweats. My breathing catches in my throat as I tug down his waistband and his cock bobs out, all thick and angry.
“Fuck, baby, what are you doing?”
“You don’t know yet?” I smirk, licking the salt on the tip of his shaft. “No? Then let me show you.”
He groans when I close my mouth around his shaft, fingers tangling in my hair, then he’s pushing me down on his cock. Imoan at his taste, looking up to lock eyes with his as I take him deeper into my mouth.
“Fuuuck!” he groans, slowly inching that hard shaft into my mouth, voice thickening as I roll my tongue on the underside of his cock. He pulls out with a curse, heat firing in his eyes as he inches back into my mouth. I bring my hands up, stroking his cock as I lick the top half of his massive girth, pushing the boundary by attempting to take more of him than I have before. “Fuck me, that sweet mouth ought to be outlawed,” he grinds out, pulling me off his cock, and I find myself spun on the bed before I can make sense of it. “It’s my turn now, angel,” he growls, shoving my thighs open, and I barely have time to react before his hungry mouth is on me.
“Oh God!” I cry out, back arching off the bed when he parts my feminine lips with his thumb, then runs his tongue over the valley of my sex, grunting as he licks me up. It’s an assault on my senses, and my eyes flutter to a close as he licks me everywhere. I feel myself teeter close to the edge when his tongue flicks over my clit, and when I’m near enough that I can almost see it, he pulls back. “Daddy…”
“Want to feel you come with me inside of you,” he says, his voice deep and guttural. His eyes are hungry, dark like a predator’s when he climbs up my body, wrapping his arm under my knee as he settles between my parted thighs. “You are so fucking gorgeous,” he says, watching me as he pushes his hot, pulsing cock into my aching sex. “I don’t imagine a day when I’ll stop needing you as desperately as I do.”
“Take me, Daddy,” I say, running my hands up his shoulders before locking my fingers behind his neck. “Make me yours.”
“Mine,” he growls, burying his face in my neck, and I brace myself against him as he takes me in rough drives, rocking hard and fast into me. My eyes roll, then close, and I allow myself to just feel—the hard press of his body against mine, the hot brush of his breath over my neck, and his massive shaft stretching and pleasuring me with every smack of his sex against mine.
“Yours,” I sob, keeping my arms looped around his neck as we grind into each other desperately, every move pulling us closer and closer to the edge, and when we reach it, I’m blissfully aware that we get there nearly at the same time. We come apart together, absorbing each other’s shock to the system as he gives and I take.
“I love you, baby,” he says when our breathing slows down. “Maybe you should take the day off, and we’ll spend it in bed.”
I chuckle, slapping his butt as I nudge him to the side. “There is no way I’ll risk Samantha’s wrath,” I say, climbing off the bed. “You’ve seen her be nice and kind to the women, but when she’s mad, even at someone else, it makes you want to crawl under a table and hide away.”
“I’ve seen her get mad before,” he says, and I turn around to see him leaning against the pillows, an arm under his head as he watches me, and Christ, it’s too tempting to climb back into bed and lick those muscles. He has the expression of a wild cat, sated but still dangerous. “The first day we met at the shelter, the way she looked at me, I thought she might skin me alive.”
“Oh.” His words stop me in my tracks. “I’m sorry about that.”
“I’m not. She was being protective of you. As a mother is to her child.”
I let his words simmer in my mind as I take a shower. I realize, as I wash up, that Samantha has been more of a motherin the time I’ve known her than my own mother ever was. Heck, with her age, she could pass as my mother, and perhaps that’s why I’ve been leaning on her a little too heavily lately.
I find myself questioning what kind of mother I would be. If I could hate my child enough to abandon her the way my birth mother did. She just packed her things and disappeared one day without a word. The abandonment hurts less now than it used to. There is no space for her in my heart anymore. Not when it’s filled by people who actually love and want me.
No, I’m content with what I have in my life.
When I finally emerge from the bedroom, dressed for the day, I find James in the kitchen drinking coffee and scrolling through his iPad. “What are you doing?” I ask, taking his coffee and sipping, hissing when it burns my tongue. “Christ, why is it so darn hot?”
He smirks, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me flush against him. “Come here, and I’ll soothe your burning tongue.”
“No way,” I say, wiggling away from the man set on making me miss work. He’s not the one who’ll have to deal with Samantha. “Go back to reading your medical articles or whatever.”
“I’ll give you a ride to work, give me a minute to clean up.” James’s apartment at the clubhouse offers us more privacy than my little studio room at the shelter, so I’d moved in with him months ago. While I miss the easy downstairs commute to work, it’s nice to have some distance from the shelter as James and I build our life together.
“No thanks, I’ll just take an Uber,” I say, risking another sip of his coffee and getting burned again because I never learn.I kiss his lips goodbye, and I’m out before he can make another attempt to grab me.
Twenty minutes later, I’m grinning like a fool when I climb out of the Uber. Something about waking up to sex with the man that’s stolen my heart has me in a good mood, and I am practically skipping up the steps when a muffled cry stops me. I wait a few seconds before it comes again, a soft whimpering sound, barely audible above the rustling leaves and the busy noises of the city.
My head whips around like a hound on the hunt as I look for the source of the sound. My feet carry me around the side of the front steps, and there, nestled in the shadow of a large hedge, is a basket.
A beautiful, woven basket, lined with a soft cream-colored blanket. And inside…is a baby. A tiny bundle, swaddled in a delicate pink hospital receiving blanket, her face crumpled in a silent, tear-stained cry.
My breath hitches. I kneel, my hands trembling as I reach out. Her skin is so impossibly soft, her tiny fingers curled into fists. “Hi there,” I whisper, gently, lifting her from the basket and cradling her against my chest. The crying softens, replaced by a series of hiccups as she nuzzles into my shoulder.
My world shifts.
Everything changes as I fall in love in an instant with this helpless little gift delivered to the doors of Haven House. No…brought to me. She’s mine.
